Adamantine
by afluffykiwi
Summary: There eventually would be a queen called Josephine the Mighty. But for now, she was simply a quiet little girl who was affectionately referred to as Josie. [fifth pevensie oc fic; canon divergent by virtue of an additional character]
1. Chapter 1

It started as most grand things do. Inconspicuously.

For the five Pevensie children, it started with a simple game of hide-and-seek.

After they were shuttled away from their home and Mother in London to an eccentric professor's home in the countryside, and the children were at a loss of what to do.

Josephine sat with a pinched face, dark gaze fixed on the rain-soaked land surrounding Professor Kirke's home. Thoughts swirled in her mind, much like they always did, dizzying and distressing. Thoughts she couldn't voice; even if she could find the words, her siblings wouldn't listen or understand.

With the rain pouring outside, they couldn't explore like they'd planned the day they arrived. Instead, they sat in the parlor. Susan's go-to was the dictionary game, much to the others' chagrin, and she wouldn't give up on it. Peter was her unfortunate player. _Prima facie_. Peter guessed a Latin origin. Correct. Not that Josephine would know—which was why she wasn't playing and perhaps why she should.

If things were different—if they were back home and there was no war on and their family was alright, she would have joined in. Not with any serious guesses, to Susan's chagrin, but with whatever nonsense she could come up with.

Lucy plopped down in the alcove beside her, propped her arm on the window's edge, and rested her face on it. Josephine glanced at her, sighed, and looked outside once more.

Edmund laid on the floor with his head beneath one of the cushioned chairs. Scraping gave away his wicked acts. Even as his twin, she couldn't understand what drove him to do such things. But if she wasn't helping him, she wasn't telling on him either.

He was the topic of one of the thoughts that whirled in her mind, actually.

They were naturally close, of course. A packaged deal. They understood each other, better than anyone else, and that's how it'd been for so long.

And then war broke out and Father went away.

And now he hated her. He hated all of them. And Josephine didn't know what to do about it.

"Gastrovascular. Come on, Peter. Gastrovascular."

Josephine looked over.

Peter sighed. "Is it Latin?"

A pause. "Yes."

"Is it Latin for," Edmund paused, pulling himself out from under the chair. " _Worst_ game ever invented?"

Peter chuckled, Susan huffed and slammed the book shut, and Josephine looked to the ceiling for the gift of patience.

Lucy got up and moved closer to the other three. "We… we could play hide and seek."

"But we're already having so much fun." Peter's voice dripped with displeasure as he looked at Susan.

"Come on, Peter, please!" Lucy whine, badgering his arm.

Josephine instinctively flicked her gaze at Edmund. Of course, Peter was going to give in. He'd had a soft spot for Lucy since she was born. They could usually laugh at it in a situation like this. Edmund met her eyes, started, and scoffed as he looked away.

Josephine set her jaw and looked back at Lucy. Prat.

"Pretty please?"

There was a long pause before a smile pulled at Peter's cheeks.

"One. Two… three…" He got up.

"What?" Edmund protested, but the game was afoot.

Due to the size of the house, they were all able to split up in their search for hiding spots. However, she was always similar to Edmund, and he was similar to her, and they wound up in the same area anyway. They resolutely ignored one another until they both went for a potential hiding spot at the same time.

He shoved her aside, and her foot caught on her other ankle, and before she knew it she was on the ground.

Pain bloomed all along her front, for she didn't manage to catch herself with her hands. Her chin stung rather bad, and her teeth and the back of her head ached. She gasped, bit down on the inside of her cheek, and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Oh, watch where you're going, _Josie._ " Edmund snapped.

She stayed still, willing the pain to recede, and his footsteps trailed away.

Her heart twisted terribly in her chest. No matter how often he was cruel, she was never able to toughen up enough for the next go around. She didn't feel like playing anymore.

She pushed herself to her knees, her chest aching with the movement.

Peter counted on.

She scooched over to the nearest wall and sat with her back pressed to it. Her knobby knees pulled up flush to her chest, arms wrapped around them. _Drip. Drip._ Onto the tops of them. Two drops of red rapidly staining her pale stockings, and another drop of red hitting the front of her dress.

Bringing a hand up to her face, she frowned when her fingers came across a warm liquid pooling a dripping from the underside of her aching chin. Oh. It must be blood.

She closed her eyes when her stomach lurched and her head went like. Just breathe. Don't look at it. She wiped the blood from her fingers and from her chin without a second glance. She rested her forehead on her knees.

"Ready or not, here I come!" Peter called, and soon enough he was there.

"Josie?" Confusion and disappointed weariness weighed his voice down. "Why aren't you hiding?"

That was, apparently, just too much for her. Tears overwhelmed her, quicker than she could resist them, and poured down her cheeks. Shocked, she lifted her head, hands hovering uselessly before she pressed them to her eyes.

She sobbed.

"Oh, Josie," Peter's voice came from beside her now, and he pulled her easily into his lap. "What's the matter?"

"No-nothing." She choked out, scrubbing her eyes and cheeks.

She sucked down a heaving breath, lifted her face to the ceiling for the gift of restraint. Peter rested a light hand on her round cheek, turning her face towards him.

"Nothing? Josie, you're all bloody."

He dug around in his pocket, finally retrieving a handkerchief before he dabbed at her chin. Her head jerked away, but he held her fast until the white cloth was mottled with red.

"There, is that better?" He shoved the handkerchief into his pocket, sighing when she shrugged. "Alright, well, I've found you. How's about we look for the others together?"

The cry left her exhausted, simultaneously like she'd been scrubbed clean with steel wool and like she was packed with the stuffing that sometimes leaked from Lucy's well-loved bear. Personally, she'd rather cuddle up and take a nap. But if Peter's frazzled, beseeching smile was anything to go by, he'd much rather have her keep playing along.

Pity rang through her. Thank goodness she wasn't the eldest. Just older than Lucy.

"I suppose that sounds fun."

"Brilliant." Peter grinned, standing the both of them upright. "Because I heard Lucy just a moment ago."

They found Lucy, and Edmund as well, in a hall not far from where Josie was. A disagreement between them seemed to be winding down, cut off at the sight of the seeker. Annoyance flashed in Edmund's eyes, and he groaned, stepping out from the curtains he'd hid in.

"You know, I'm not sure you two have quite got the idea of this game." Peter glanced between them.

Lucy frowned, "Weren't you wondering where I was?"

"That's the point," Edmund stressed, unkindly. "That was why he was seeking you."

Quick footsteps from down the hall gave away another arrival. Josephine glanced back, met Susan's eyes, and shrugged at the questioning look in her eyes.

The elder girl smiled, "Does this mean I win?"

"I don't think Lucy wants to play anymore." Peter looked back at Susan.

"Well, neither do I." Josephine crossed her arms over her chest.

"But… I've been gone for hours."

There was no explaining that because hours for Lucy was seconds for all of them. Either she was right, or something was wrong, and the only way to know for sure was to check.

The room they entered was bare save for a crumpled tarp on the ground, a dead bluebottle, and a large, ornate wardrobe. Josephine could scarcely keep her eyes off it. And Josephine knew that even if it were in a packed room, it would have that same effect on her.

With Lucy's imagination, of course, she could believe it was magical.

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, fixing them with a pointed look. They shared a helpless glance and began to investigate. Susan felt around the inside, Peter over her shoulder, while Edmund and Josephine knocked on the back of the furniture.

Josephine pointedly ignored him. Her chin ached.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about the wardrobe. They moved away from it, back to Lucy.

Susan turned towards the youngest girl, "You see? The only wood in here is the back of the wardrobe."

"One game at a time," Peter said lightly. "We don't all have your imagination."

Josephine bit her lip. Oh dear. Lucy could never hide what she felt, and Josephine could tell this much—Lucy wasn't going to let this go. The other three headed for the door, and Josephine took a half step towards Lucy before the younger girl burst out:

"But I wasn't imagining!"

Josephine winced, "Lu—"

"That's enough, Lucy." Susan's voice was soft and firm and when it was like that one knew they should quit while they were ahead. But Lucy was never the type for that.

"I wouldn't like about this." The pain in Lucy's face made her heart ache.

"Let's all take a moment to calm down." Josephine set a hand on Lucy's shoulder and squeezed gently.

But that feeling of goodwill vanished in a moment.

"Well, I believe you." The fake cheer in Edmund's voice stoked up an anger in her that Susan would consider most unladylike.

She glared at him. It was all well and good that he tormented her, she could bear that. But when he messed with Lucy, it just wasn't fair, and he had to be planning to mess with her because he wasn't the type to believe in this sort of nonsense.

"You do?" Oh, Lucy.

"Yeah, of course," He continued. "Didn't I tell you about the football fields in the bathroom cupboards?"

Peter bristled as well, cast Edmund a scathing look, and said, "Oh will you just stop? You just have to make everything worse, don't you?"

"It was just a joke," Edmund pulled back, confidence draining from his face.

And Peter proceeded to take it too far, "When are you going to learn to grow up?"

Josephine sighed.

As expected, it had the opposite effect than what she imagined Peter was going for. Edmund puffed up with rage, stormed up to Peter, and made the elder trip back a few steps.

"Shut up! You think you're Dad, but you're not!" And then her twin pushed past Susan and left.

"Well, that was nicely handled." Susan said and followed after Edmund.

Josephine sighed, shook her head, and with an absent and anxious wandering hand, prodded at the cut on her chin as she left the room.

What a mess.

* * *

a/n: ahhh! when the lww first came out (i was 6) i was obseeessed with the movie, and then i saw the sequels as they came out, and then i sort of forgot about the series. but i recently rediscovered it and i fell in love all over again!  
this fic is in a different style than i usually do; i hope the dialogue and the style works well.  
major thanks to my friend jane for beta'ing this for meeee!

i hope you enjoy the story and my lil gal josie, but if you don't, i'd love to know why so i can do better in the future :)


	2. Chapter 2

a/n: sorry it's taken awhile to post this! i got a little embarrassed by my attempts to use 1940's british lingo. please... take it all with a grain of salt. hope you're liking josephine, or at least, bear with her bc her character arc will be quite something :) i hope you enjoy ch 2!

* * *

Hours after they'd all gone their separate ways, Josephine sat on the lid of the toilet in the water closet at the end of their bedroom hall. Her hands gripped a bottle of antiseptic in one and a bunched-up bit of gauze in the other. She had to get it over with. No point in leaving home to escape the Blitz to die in the countryside of infection, right? Right, of course.

She swallowed, lips pressed together until they hurt, and she poured some of the acrid liquid onto the gauze. She stood, popped up onto her tiptoes, and lifted her chin so she could see it in the mirror.

Alright then. Clean it up.

Just dab it.

Come on, Josie.

Get it over with.

She lifted her trembling hand. The damp gauze hovered over her split chin.

Come on.

She dropped back to flat feet, the mirror rattling against the wall at the impact.

Oh, it was better to get it over with, but she couldn't do it. It would hurt.

Her eyes burned and for the second time that day she began to cry. For goodness' sake, she had to stop. She was ten years old. She wasn't a baby.

She set the bottle and gauze on the countertop, rubbed her eyes on her sleeve, and wet a washcloth instead. At the very least she could clean up the dried blood.

 _Rap-rap-rap._ "Are you nearly done in there?"

"Just a moment, Su." Josephine sighed, wiped her face hastily clean of blood and tears, and hissed when her cut tugged and warm blood oozed down her chin again.

Rats.

"Su, could… could you help me with something?" She winced, unlocked and pulled the door open.

Susan peered into the room, brow pinched. Josephine pulled the washcloth away, and her blue eyes went wide. Susan snatched up the washcloth, manhandled Josephine's face so that her chin angled up as high as it could go, and pressed the cloth firmly to the cut.

"Ah—" Josephine winced. "Ah, gentle, please?"

"Oh, Josephine, what have you done?"

"It wasn't my fault." She mumbled. There were few things worse than Susan being disappointed in her.

"Then whose was it?" Susan lifted a brow, and when she was satisfied that the bleeding had stopped, set the cloth aside.

Josephine Pevensie was not a rat. She shrugged petulantly and looked away.

Susan pursed her lips but a moment later turned away to the antiseptic.

"Did you clean it?"

Josephine shook her head, but couldn't move much. Her face was still in Susan's grasp. Her sister clicked her tongue and let go to examine the gauze. She took the moment to pout a bit and rub at the points of her face that had been gripped.

"Oh, don't you pout, Josephine. You should have told me about this sooner." Susan lifted Josephine's chin again.

"I thought you were bus—ow!" She flinched, but the antiseptic had already been applied.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Her sister moved away once more, repacked the first aid kit, and pulled out an adhesive plaster.

She smoothed it over the cut and placed a light kiss to Josephine's forehead.

"Thanks, Su." Josephine smiled a bit, wrapping an arm around Susan in an appreciative hug.

Susan nodded with her own small smile. "You're welcome, Josie. Try not to get into any more trouble, alright? Go on, now."

Josephine nodded and darted from the room.

Unfortunately, she almost immediately tripped— _again_ – over Edmund. She yelped, pinwheeling as both feet came off the ground. But she knew better now and she caught herself on her hands and knees.

But now the pain in her knees was quite terrible and she bit down on her lip to quell a whimper.

Edmund cursed in a way Susan would be very cross at.

"Watch where you're going!"

She turned, sitting upright to fix him with a glare. He sat behind a bench with his legs stretched out into the hall. What had he expected?

She bristled.

 _Josephine, displays of temper are very improper_. Susan's voice rang in her mind. It went against her nature… in normal circumstances. But she altogether felt cowed and downtrodden. So, she swallowed her anger and turned her burning eyes to her rapidly bruising knees.

There was a long, quiet pause before Edmund released a tense sigh.

"Are you alright?"

Her head snapped up, temper licking at her words. "What do you think?"

He matched her glare, but when he broke eye contact, it faltered.

"What happened to your chin?"

Blast it, Su. "What do you think, you… you beast? You tripped me. Twice!"

He jerked back, gaping at her.

She pulled herself to her feet, stumbled when her knees buckled, and righted herself. Oh, dear. This was terrible. But, she steeled herself and glared down her nose at him.

"If you trip me again, I'll thrash you. Don't think I won't." And with that, she whirled around and stomped away.

She would later come to regret this, for a variety of reasons. As it stood, she was quite pleased to have stood up for herself, and thoroughly hoped Susan wouldn't know it happened.

That night, as Josephine lay squashed between her sisters in the single bed they shared; she listened to Susan's even breathing and watched the candle that flickered on Lucy's side of the bed. Her younger sister most likely thought both of them were asleep at this hour. Josephine did nothing to prove otherwise. She simply watched and waited.

A few minutes later Lucy sat upright, slipped on her shoes, and grabbed the candlestick.

Josephine lifted a hand and knocked it against Lucy's back, startling a gasp out of her. She whirled around and Josephine lifted a finger to her lips with a glance at Susan. And then she raised a brow at her.

 _Where are you going?_

Lucy shrugged and whispered, "You don't believe me anyway."

The wardrobe, for sure. She sighed, sat up, and got out of bed to put her own shoes on. They hadn't found anything before so it wasn't likely they'd find something now. However, guilt nibbled at Josephine for doubting. She could have played along. It'd been hard for Lucy.

"What are you doing?" Lucy frowned at her.

Josephine flashed a smile. "Going with you."

She held out a hand and Lucy took it with a bright smile. They crept out of the room and down the halls until they finally came across the spare room. Lucy didn't hesitate before going inside, but Josephine faltered in her steps. For a moment, she wondered honestly: what if they did go through?

"Aren't you coming?"

Lucy broke her from the thought and she shook herself. Well, she may not have Lucy's imagination, but she was quite pleased that she didn't have Susan's rigid dedication to reason. If it happened, she could believe it. Accept it. Would she be afraid of it? Absolutely.

She held the door open for her little sister, and Lucy stepped inside. She pushed carefully through the thick coats and Josephine very much hoped they wouldn't catch on fire. She left the door open a crack behind them and followed with her hands held out.

But they back of the wardrobe didn't come.

"Lucy?" Her stomach dropped.

"I'm just ahead of you, Josie, come on." Lucy pushed aside a coat, revealing herself and the candlelight.

Lucy took her hand, smiled at her, and led her further into the wardrobe. Eventually, the soft coats faded into prickly pine needles. The tightness in her throat strangled the strange noise that threatened to escape her.

Each step crunched beneath their feet.

"Oh, goodness." Josephine felt a bit faint.

Lucy giggled, more at their surroundings than Josephine.

They pushed through the thick pine needles encapsulating them. Past the trees ahead was a snow-covered clearing, awash in a warm, flickering light. It easily overpowered the watery daylight—oh, how strange. Daytime. Not night.

Lucy blew out the candle and set it in the snow. She turned to Josephine, smiling so hard her eyes were nearly crinkled shut. Josephine clutched her hand, gaze flitting around the strange woods.

"Do you believe me now, Josephine?"

"I suppose I've got to."

"Come on, then!" Lucy tugged on her arm, and they trotted off through and past the clearing.

Though Lucy was two years younger, Josephine was barely taller than her. At this rate, she would be the smallest in the family. Meaning she got manhandled quite easily. It was quite unfortunate.

"Where are we going?" She kept pace as they traveled down the shadowed edge of a snowy path.

Lucy hushed her, "To meet a friend. But you've got to be quiet for now—it's not safe."

" _Not safe?_ " She hissed.

Lucy shushed her once more, and Josephine fell silent. They continued on. She took the time to soak up their surroundings: a world shrouded in blinding white, with the only green coming from what pine needles could peek out from beneath the snow. A cold and quiet world.

Josephine shivered. If she'd known it would be snowing, she would have taken her coat.

"There it is." Lucy whispered.

Ahead, wedged in stone, was a door.

"What is that?"

"It's a home, of course," Lucy laughed, picking up the pace. "I'm sure there'll be a fire going, don't worry. You should have brought your coat, Josie."

Josephine grimaced. "Well, there's always next time."

She hung back a step as Lucy stepped forward to knock on the door. Her hands involuntarily curled into fists but her heart pounded in her chest. Lucy was obviously excited to see who ever lived here, but Lucy was also absurdly trusting. And it fell to Josephine to keep her safe in Peter and Susan's stead.

She tensed. The door had opened a crack.

"Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy's smile was tangible in her voice.

"Oh! Daughter of Eve, come inside, quickly." The crack widened and Lucy slipped inside before Josephine could protest.

So, Josephine had to follow.

The house was pleasantly warm, thawing Josephine's chilled fingers and toes. A sigh slipped from her—there wasn't any painful tingling as blood flow returned to her extremities.

It was a clean and cozy space, full of pictures and books and carved wooden furniture, and a quaint fire in a hearth. And in the room, stood the assumed Mr. Tumnus.

Oh.

His torso was a familiar enough sight, rather human if not exceedingly hairy. But his head had horns sticking out and his ears were like goats and his legs –

Oh.

She felt rather funny.

The last thing she was aware of was Lucy crying out her name and then darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

_She ran through the dark._

 _Trees stretched into the pitch sky, never quite in her way despite how crowded together they got. Branches tore at her hair and skin and dress, snapped branches cut her feet and tripped her up, and her nails were caked with dirt as she clambered up a slope._

 _But she couldn't stop._

 _The forest howled around her. One-part wind. One-part something else._

 _She kept running._

 _The world grew lighter until the darkness was swallowed up by blinding white._

 _Bells jingled ahead, leeching the strength from her legs._

 _She crashed to the ground._

 _She was afraid._

 _In the distance, all around, but also inside of her, came a roar._

 _Her strength returned._

Josephine woke with chills, covered in a cold sweat, and trembling limbs even though she laid perfectly still. She kept her eyes shut. If opening them would lead to a headache, she wanted to avoid that for a long as possible.

But why did she feel so rotten?

The air around her was warm and a pleasant, spiced earthy smell hung in the air.

Fingers ran through her hair. One of her many weaknesses. A shiver of contentedness ran down her back. Perhaps she felt rotten, but this seemed to be a nice place.

She opened her eyes. The room was awash with a soft orange light, shadows dancing on the earthen ceiling above her. Lucy's face was above her too, though she was looking elsewhere. It must've been her petting her head.

"Lu?" Josephine grimaced at a faint metallic taste on her tongue. "What time is it?"

"Josie!" Lucy gasped, looking down at her. "Oh, you gave us a fright, Josie. Are you feeling alright?'

She ran her tongue over the inside of her mouth, noting the cut and source of the metallic taste. It was not her lucky day.

No point in worrying Lucy, though, "I suppose so."

Josephine sat upright with a fair bit of effort and some help from her sister. She twisted in her seat so that her feet hung over the edge of the loveseat they were on. And across from her was Mr. Tumnus.

Ah, yes. The Wardrobe. The snowy woods. Lucy's friend. She'd nearly forgotten.

Surprisingly enough she felt rather calm this go around. A strange sight to be sure, but she was very tired now, and not feeling too well, so she couldn't muster up the will to make a fuss.

He watched her warily but smiled when she offered one.

"Ah, another Daughter of Eve. My name is Tumnus."

"Hullo, Mr. Tumnus. I'm Josephine, a pleasure to meet you." She wasn't quite sure if that was a lie or not, but it was always best to be polite.

She leaned forward, since her legs were a bit trembly, and stretched her hand out to him as far as it could go. He held out a hand, took hers, and shook it from side to side. Josephine's face twitched, baffled, and Lucy giggled beside her.

"We were just talking about what's gone on since I was last here," Lucy cozied up against her side. "Everything's turned out alright. The White Witch doesn't know I've been here."

Josephine wrapped an arm around her. "Who's the White Witch?"

"She's kept all of Narnia under her thumb for the past hundred years," Mr. Tumnus' round face went dark. "Always winter and never Christmas."

"Well, that sounds dreadful." Josephine bit her lip. "But… why would she care if we've been here?"

He sucked in a sharp breath.

Lucy looked at him for a long moment before looking back at Josephine.

"She's looking for humans. But I don't know why."

"It's because of the prophecy." Mr. Tumnus trembled, standing up. "I think it's best for you to go back now. The longer you stay, the more chances she has to find you."

Lucy opened her mouth, expression screaming protest. Lucy always was so very good and selfless, and Josephine would have liked to be that way as well. But she just had to keep Lucy safe. She shot to her feet and thanked him stiffly, pushing past the dizziness the action brought on.

"I can't argue with that. Come on, Lu."

"Josephine." Lucy sounded so very disappointed.

Josephine pulled her to her feet, gripping her hand tightly. "Lucy. Please, come on."

Mr. Tumnus showed them to the door and Josephine made to bolt. But Lucy held fast long enough to give the faun a hug. Then they were off.

"You knew someone was after you, but still came back anyway?" She hissed.

"I had to know if this was really real, Josie. And if he was okay."

That wasn't a good enough answer in Josephine's book; she knew when to leave things well enough alone, but she was also painfully aware that not all of her siblings were the same way.

They'd nearly reached the clearing with the lamppost when she picked up on the sounds of voices in the distance. Muffled by trees and snow, it was hard to make out, but Josephine would take no chances with Lucy's life. She shoved her down, ignoring the yelp of protest, and pressed them both low to the snow.

Thankfully, Lucy hushed, and Josephine watched with wide eyes and bated breath.

Then a familiar figure drew closer.

"Edmund?" She pulled herself free of the snow.

Lucy popped up immediately and ran to him.

"Edmund!" She squealed, wrapping him up in a hug. "Oh, Edmund, you got in too! Isn't it wonderful?"

He pried her off. "Where've you been?"

"With Mr. Tumnus. He's fine. The White Witch hasn't found out anything about him meeting me."

Josephine frowned as he wiped some white powder from the corner of his mouth. Perhaps she was being paranoid. Perhaps she was still cross with him or perhaps she was in a generally foul mood because the chill had crept into her once more. But something about this was suspect.

"The White Witch?" He asked after glancing around.

"That's what I'd been wondering as well." Josephine murmured and for the first time, he looked at her.

She tried to hold his gaze. But he broke away after only a moment. Her stomach sank further.

Lucy leaned in conspiratorially. "She calls herself the Queen of Narnia, but she really isn't."

He couldn't meet either of their eyes and had gone rather pale. Even if he didn't deserve it, she felt concerned. She stepped closer with a frown.

"Are you alright?" Even Lucy could tell. "You look awful."

He reacted as expected. "Well, what do you expect?" With an outburst. "I mean… it's freezing. Look at her, she's all blue."

With a shock, she realized he was referring to her and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't turn this on _me_ , Edmund."

"I was just-" He floundered, glancing around. "How do we get out of here?"

Lucy regarded the two of them with more maturity than Josephine thought possible, and with a soft 'come here, this way,' grabbed both of their hands and lead them back.

Peter would not be pleased with them.

Lucy had slipped away from them the moment the three of them stepped out of the wardrobe, and before she knew what was happening, had sprinted for the boys' room. Josephine yelped and followed close behind.

"Lucy!" She whisper-yelled. "No, Lucy, wait!"

But it was too late. Lucy barged into the room and flung herself onto their older brother. The rudest awakening possible. He would definitely not appreciate _Narnia_ being to blame and would most likely not be willing to entertain the idea of it.

She slowed to a stop, pressing her thawing fingers to her brow. She felt more than she sensed Edmund enter the room after her. Intuition. If only she'd known he'd entered the wardrobe. But she was most likely in the midst of a faint when he had.

"Peter, Peter, Peter! Get up, it's there! It's really there!"

He groaned, "Shh, what are you talking about?"

"Narnia! It's all in the wardrobe, just like I told you!"

Susan slipped past Josephine, making her jump, and sighed. "Oh, you've just been dreaming, Lucy."

Lucy whirled to look at her. "But I haven't! I saw Mr. Tumnus again, and this time Edmund and Josephine went too."

Josephine felt some of the blood rush from her face at her older sibling's attention, and from the corner of her eye saw Edmund's shock at being pointed out.

"You… you saw the faun?" Peter's disbelief was very apparent.

"Well, _Edmund_ didn't actually go there with me. Josie did. He…"

Lucy had turned slowly back to look at Edmund, brow furrowed.

"What were you doing, Edmund?"

They all looked to him, her past suspicion rising up once more to cut through her mild panic. He paused under the attention, floundering for just a moment.

"I… I was just playing along."

Josephine's jaw dropped. Lucy turned to look back at Peter. He'd doomed them. No one would ever believe either of them now: Lucy for pressing the matter and Josephine for not speaking up sooner.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have encouraged her. But at least I know when to give it up." He fixed her with a hard look, and her jaw snapped shut with a click. "You know what little children are like," He turned to smirk at Lucy." They just… don't know when to stop pretending."

Lucy, though she tried to fight it, burst into tears.

Josephine just felt tired.

Peter and Susan scoffed and ran after the youngest Pevensie, but not before Peter gave Edmund a good shove and Susan fixed Josephine with a disappointed look.

Edmund fell back on his bed, appearing to be shocked at Peter's aggression. But Josephine expected as such and didn't feel any pity for him.

She stood where she had, eyes lifted to the ceiling once more for patience.

"Edmund, you are a very cruel boy." She murmured.

"Oh, shove off, Josephine." He groused.

She looked at him for a long moment, for beneath the waves of exhaustion, the rest of her emotions raged. Was she furious or betrayed? Shocked or resigned?

Perhaps the emotions showed on her face without her knowledge. Edmund hadn't looked at her, and there was no one else to see. No one to catch a glimpse of her tumultuous psyche.

Perhaps that was for the best.

She turned and left without another word. And that would be the last she spoke to her twin for a long time.

* * *

a/n: and that's chapter 3! i hope you like it, please leave a comment with your thoughts :) until next time!


	4. Chapter 4

a/n: sorry for the wait! i sit down to write this, i have time and motivation and i know exactly what i want to write, and then i just can't. so this was a struggle to get down but it's here and i hope you enjoy.

* * *

When the weather cleared up, Susan felt it best to drag them all out-of-doors. She probably hoped that fresh air would clear up the tension in the house. In Josephine's opinion, that wasn't likely. She'd gone to sleep before either Susan or Lucy had gone back to bed, thankfully, but breakfast was a dreadfully tense affair. She hadn't said one word to any of the others, because once the drowsiness from her faint faded, she had room to feel hurt and embarrassed and disappointed.

And she very much did feel those things.

While the elder three played cricket, Lucy and Josephine sat off to the side, beneath a tree. Sunlight filtered through the lush branches above them, dappling their skin and the pages of their books shades of green. Like stained glass.

"Why didn't you say anything, Josie?" Lucy fidgeted with the pages of the book in her lap.

She twitched at the question, but gave up on re-reading the page she'd been on the past ten minutes and closed the dusty thing.

She pursed her lips. "Why bother? They weren't going to believe us. They didn't want to."

She frowned when Lucy turned her pinched, hurt gaze on her.

"Maybe they would have if you'd spoken up." She bit her lip. "You're older, they trust you."

"Hardly, Lu," She scowled, leaning back against the tree. If _only_ they trusted and respected her more. "What's done is done."

"Why can't we play hide-and-seek again?" Edmund's voice drew their attention – and their ire.

They looked at him, then at each other, then Lucy turned back to her book and Josephine turned back to their siblings.

"I thought you said it was a kid's game." Peter dismissed lightly.

"Besides," Susan cut in. "We could all use the fresh air."

Edmund sneered. "It's not like there isn't air inside."

There was a moment of pause while Peter examined the ball. Josephine crossed her arms, settling in. She might not have felt like playing with them, but matches were at the very least amusing to watch.

Peter spoke again when he'd determined the ball was up to snuff. "Are you ready?"

"Are you?" Edmund snapped.

Peter threw the ball. Edmund hit it.

It soared.

Into a window.

Josephine choked on a gasp, lurching to her feet. The Macready would throw a _fit._ The Professor would throw them out! Oh, this was no good, no good at all. A startled giggle burst out of Lucy and Josephine turned to fix her with a questioning look. But Lucy just seemed far too pleased and offered no explanation as she stood.

She ran past Josephine, who turned and saw the rest of her siblings tearing for the house. And really the only thing to do was follow.

The best outcome would have been this: the ball simply crashed into an empty spare room. A bedroom would be tolerable. But…

Broken glass glittered on the wood floor, unfiltered sunlight streamed down onto it and onto the suit of armor that the ball slammed into.

Great. One of the professor's studies. The worst possible place.

"Oh, well done, Ed." Peter glared.

Edmund recoiled. "You balled it!"

The argument was then cut off by the Macready. Especially furious-sounding on that fine sunny day and rapidly approaching. Susan, rather unnecessarily, relayed this information.

So, once more, the only thing to do was run.

Through the winding halls of the house, they searched for a place to hide. Their footsteps creaked and thudded against the old dark wood floors, their heavy breaths and frantic whispers echoed off the walls. They weren't very sneaky so they had to count on being fast. Because the Macready was always too close behind to stop. Or she managed to almost cut them off. Personally, she felt like turning this into a chase would make it worse when they were eventually caught. Even so, she wouldn't be able to stop if she tried.

Finally, they wound up in a spare room.

 _The_ spare room.

Apprehension prickled in her chest at the sight of the wardrobe, intensifying when Edmund ran across the room to open its doors.

He turned to them. "Come _on_."

"You've got to be joking." Susan sighed.

There wasn't time for a standoff: the Macready approached.

They all clambered inside. It was a tight squeeze, for the initial bit was still a wardrobe and they were still five children. They bickered, muffled slightly by the coats they pushed through. Josephine felt for Lucy's small hand, and when she found it, she gave it a squeeze and tugged her close, becoming a bugger against the inadvertent swinging elbows and stomping feet of the others.

Peter and Susan wound up in front and tripped onto their bums when the snow really took over. It was a shame she couldn't see the looks of their faces. But Lucy looked pleased beside her, so she allowed her own smile to cross her face.

"Impossible." Of course, that was the first word out of Susan's mouth.

When Peter and Susan moved further into Narnia, Edmund, Josephine, and Lucy slipped out of the wardrobe and stood beside them.

"Don't worry," Lucy mused, letting go of Josephine's hand. "I'm sure it's just your imagination."

Josephine chuckled. Lucy was a sweet girl, an absolute darling, but she had some zingers in her. She bit her cheek when her younger sister stooped down, subtly gathering snow in her hands.

Peter laughed, stilted and shocked. "I don't suppose… saying we're sorry would quite cover it?"

Lucy's expression went serious. "No, it wouldn't."

And then she nailed him in the face with a snowball.

"But that might!"

The fight was on, then, Between Lucy and Peter and Susan. They scooped up heaps of snow and pelted it at each other, giggling and squealing as they did. Josephine backed out of the way, into icy pines that pricked her back through her dress, eyeing the world around them. Fat chance she would forget that the White Witch was looking for humans.

"Maybe you should—" She hissed, and was interrupted by Edmund's startled cry.

Her heart leaped into her throat, and she looked over at him fully expecting to see him snapped up by some horrible, ice-encrusted witch. But he just stood there rubbing his arm and glaring at Susan.

"Stop it!"

The air shifted from jovial to tense. Josephine relaxed slightly, now that they were quiet and Edmund was not, in fact, snatched by the White Witch.

It must have been obvious now to Peter and Susan that Edmund had lied before. Maybe she would have taken some satisfaction in that. But her feelings were too sore and frankly, she was too on edge. She hadn't found them, _yet_.

"You little liar." Peter's voice dripped with angry disbelief, hardly contained at all.

Edmund spluttered. "You didn't believe them either."

"Apologize to them."

Edmund glared stubbornly back, faltering when Peter advanced on him.

"Say you're sorry!"  
"Alright," Edmund glanced at Lucy and Josephine. "I'm sorry."

Josephine felt her jaw click shut, her teeth creaked as she ground her teeth. He didn't mean it. She could tell. And she would rather he hadn't apologized at all than give them a false one. She opened her mouth to say so when Lucy spoke first.

"That's alright. Some little children just don't know when to stop pretending."

A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. Pulled down to a frown when Edmund muttered something she couldn't pick up on. She stepped away from the trees, hand brushing Lucy's arm.

"Lu," She said under her breath. "Don't you remember Mr. Tumnus' warning?"

Lucy looked up at her with wide eyes. "But we're all here now. It's alright."

Susan glanced between them, brow furrowed. Josephine shrugged and didn't offer up any clarification. No, she wouldn't ruin Lucy's fun, and telling Susan about the White Witch was a surefire way to do that. She already had one sibling that hated her guts; she couldn't beat it if Lucy did too. She would just have to keep an eye out for danger. She was very good at looking out of the others, or at least, she hoped she was.

"Maybe we should go back." Susan finally said.

Edmund looked shocked and gestured at the rest of the forest. "Shouldn't we at least take a look around?"

Peter mulled it over a moment before a sent a smile at Lucy and Josephine.

"I think they should decide."

Lucy gasped, delighted. She latched onto Josephine's hand and tugged on it, to which Josephine let out a pathetic 'ow' and turned back towards her.

"They should meet Mr. Tumnus, too, shouldn't they?" Her large blue eyes shone with excitement. And Josephine was set with resolve: that was excitement she couldn't squash.

She sighed, returning the smile. "I think that's a good idea." Spending the time walking back to his home and speaking to him would be more than enough. Then he could give the warning and _she_ wouldn't have to break Lu's heart.

"Well, Mr. Tumnus it is." Peter gave them one more large smile before he ducked back into the wardrobe.

Susan rubbed her arms, looking at the two of them like they were mad.

"But we can't go hiking in the snow dressed like this."

"It isn't a terribly long walk," Josephine carefully folded her arms across her chest. "But I would rather not do it again without a coat."

"Why didn't you wear one in the first place?" Edmund sneered.

Her lip curled in a silent snarl, and when she realized it happened, she relaxed the expression with a few surprised blinks. She had to reign her frustration in. She didn't – couldn't – sink down to his level.

She sniffed and turned away.

"You're right, Susan," Peter stepped back out from the wardrobe, arms filled with thick coats. "But I'm sure the Professor wouldn't mind us using these." He handed one over to Susan. "Anyway, if you think about it _logically,_ " Then Lucy, then herself. "We're not even taking them out of the wardrobe."

She admired her coat for a moment. Glossy, dark brown fur, with large ornate buttons. The lining was soft and intact, and immediately after doing up the buttons, she was smothered in warmth. It was a little large on her, for even after she rolled up the sleeves a few times, it fell to her fingertips. Still, she wouldn't complain about _that_ , not when she felt so snug.

Finally, he held one out to Edmund. It only took her a moment to realized why Edmund hesitated to take it, and she hid her giggle in her sleeve.

"But that's a girl's coat," Edmund whined.

She couldn't see Peter's expression, but his voice was quite even when he replied, "I know."

Josephine rolled her eyes once more and pulled her attention away from her twin. Now that the issue of what they were to do and the chill was chased away, his behavior was less needling. She nudged Lucy's arm, holding her hand out to take with a smile. Lucy returned it, took her hand, and began to swing it between them.

"Isn't it exciting, Josie? We're going to see Mr. Tumnus again, and this time you'll get to have a proper talk with him."

"I suppose so." She nodded with another quick glance at the trees around them.

"Alright," Peter finished adjusting his coat. "Lead on."

Lucy giggled and darted forward, tugging Josephine along once more until she matched her pace.

They followed the warm light of the lamppost through the snow-stained trees until they reached its source. Sparing a moment, they explained what happened on their first journey's into Narnia and who Mr. Tumnus even was. Josephine did leave out her strange dream and hedged around the reason they left. Which was a stupid thing to do, she realized the moment she'd done it, but she'd committed to that path.

They traveled through the snowy woods. It was quiet. The snow muffled most ambient sounds and now she knew that the fear of being observed, of being found by the White Witch, stifled much more.

In her excitement, as they neared the end of their walk, Lucy began chattering about all the wonderful things that filled Mr. Tumnus' home, and all the treats he would have prepared. She walked even quicker, and the two of them pulled ahead of their siblings as they rounded a stone outcropping and entered the last clearing that his home resided in.

And they stopped.

Dread, more frigid than the snow around them, flooded her system. She gripped Lucy's hand and tugged her half-behind her. Lucy fell silent.

His door was bashed in.

"Lu?" Peter asked from somewhere behind them.

His voice seemed to break a sort of spell, as Lucy then gasped and rushed forward towards the door. Josephine didn't hesitate, sprinting to keep just ahead of her. Her lungs felt like they were trapped in a vice, or that her throat was, but either way, it felt like she could hardly get the air in to speak.

"Josie! Lu!" Peter cried out and the rapid crunching footsteps behind them gave away their siblings' pursuit.

They slipped into Mr. Tumnus' home. Snow filled the entryway, piled up about ankle high before it spilled into the rest of the home. It was dark and cold, a far cry from the last time they were there. Pictures and books and knick-knacks were strewn all around, ripped up and smashed apart.

His tea set lay shattered by the sitting chairs, the frosted rug the only indication now that tea had been spilled there.

Lucy's grip on her hand rivaled her grip on Lucy's.

"Who would do something like this?"

Josephine winced at the utter despair that filled her voice, and she tugged Lucy against her side, letting go of her hand to wrap an arm around her.

"It's alright, Lu." She lied, voice scratchy as she forced it past the 'vice'.

A tearing sound grabbed her attention and she looked over to see Peter holding a piece of parchment. He scanned it before drifting back over and he began to read aloud:

" _Faun Tumnus is hereby charged with high treason against her Imperial Majesty, Jadis, Queen of Narnia for comforting her enemies and fraternizing with humans. Signed Maugrim, Captain of the Secret Police. Long Live the Queen."_

Having moved to his side along with Lucy and Susan to read over his arm, Josephine gasped and gripped his coat. She turned to fix Lucy with a look and internally kicked herself. It would have been better to tell them and let Lucy hate her than to knowingly lead them into danger. How could she have been so stupid?

"Alright, now we really should go back." Susan had no issue with being the voice of reason Josephine couldn't be.

Lucy broke eye contact with her and looked at Susan. "But what about Mr. Tumnus?"

"If he was arrested for just being with a human, I don't think there's much we can do."

"You don't understand," Lucy shook her head. " _I'm_ the human. Josie too. She must have found out he helped us."

"If we try and rescue him, we'll just get taken in too. And then he'll have helped us for nothing." She crossed her arms over her chest. It made her feel sick to say so, to give up on him after he'd helped them, but she'd already been too reckless with her family's safety.

"Maybe we can call the police." Peter offered, to which Susan quickly countered,

"These are the police."

Peter shot her a glare, then sighed and bent down to meet Lucy and Josephine at eye level.

"Don't worry," He smiled reassuringly at them both. "We'll think of something."

"Why?" She'd nearly forgotten Edmund was there until the word burst out of him. "I mean, he's a criminal."

Before anyone could respond to that, a bird tweeted outside, breaking the encroaching silence that surrounded them. Josephine jumped with a squeak, heart skipping a beat. Peter rested a hand on her shoulder, moving halfway between her and the entrance.

Then a soft _psst_ cut through the air.

Susan's face went slack with shock. "Did that bird just _psst_ at us?"

* * *

a/n: please leave a comment letting me know your thoughts, they always inspire me to write more and do better in the future. i have a lot planned for josephine so i hope you'll stick around for her journey!  
thank you for reading!


End file.
